


Unexpected

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 16:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gandalf doesn’t know anything about any adventures.
Kudos: 21





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this

Gandalf lowers his pipe and puffs out a circle of smoke: it floats up before him in a neat little ring. It’s a gratifying sight: a soft wisp of silver against the clear blue sky. It’s another lovely day, quiet and peaceful—perfect for being a decent wizard in a quaint little wizard village. Gandalf lifts his pipe to begin the next, but then he notices movement past his gate.

He straightens up on the old wooden bench outside of his home. He’s sitting out in the garden, a pretty place full of flowers and greenery—it’s a good time of year to be outside. The early sun casts down to make the leaves shimmer with the dew of last night’s rain. As blessedly _normal_ as it is, it equally as stunning—Gandalf has always appreciated the simple beauty of his home. 

And a hobbit looks quite outlandish in it, but a hobbit is standing there, just beyond his low wooden fence. Gandalf blinks at the newcomer, who blinks right back. He’s a rotund, stout little fellow, with golden brown hair and the layered, earth-coloured clothes of any hobbit, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers. He smiles at Gandalf and greets, “Good morning.”

Gandalf lowers his pipe again. He muses, curious, “What do you mean?” The hobbit chuckles. A name comes to Gandalf’s mind, though he doesn’t know if the hobbit belongs to it. It’s been a very long time since he’s seen anyone else at all, because he’s no longer as foolish as his childhood, and now he’s settled into a perfectly reasonable wizard’s life.

The hobbit answers, “I mean that I wish you a good morning. But also that it’s a good morning whether you wish it or not, and that _I’m_ good on this particular morning, and also that it’s a morning to be good on.”

Gandalf’s thoroughly puzzled. The hobbit looks at him for a long moment. The hobbit might be a Mr. Bilbo Baggins, or he might not. Gandalf vaguely remembers that name, and it certainly sounds like it means this hobbit. 

After a bit of conspicuous silence, the maybe-Bilbo explains, “You see, I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.”

_That_ wakes Gandalf up. He startles, blustering, “Certainly _not_.” The hobbit, who is definitely a Bilbo of some sort, lifts a brow. Gandalf informs him, “I’ll have you know I’m a _respectable_ wizard. As are we all. I don’t imagine you’ll find anyone west of Saruman’s hut that will go for anything like that.”

“Hm.” Bilbo doesn’t look particularly put out. He murmurs, “A shame. And you used to make such excellent fireworks. Are you still in business, or is that your only business?”

That explains where Gandalf knows the name from. He grunts, “And where else should I be?”

“Well, that’s decided, then.” Bilbo nods to himself. He’s only growing more confusing and more troublesome. Gandalf decides to put an end to it—he rises off the bench.

He strolls towards his front door, and Bilbo walks parallel to him, musing, “It’ll be very good for you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.”

Gandalf abruptly stops walking, hand already on the doorknob. “What others?” But then he realizes he doesn’t want to know. This Bilbo fellow is very clearly trouble, and trouble is none of Gandalf’s business. He huffs, “Good morning,” and quickly shuts himself inside. He half expects the hobbit to knock and try to follow him in for tea, but that doesn’t happen.

Gandalf thinks nothing more of it until his evening tea, when a pile of thirteen elves shows up on his doorstep.


End file.
